


Possession; Holding Out For A Hero

by Karracaz



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Soul Bond, Star Trek: TOS, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karracaz/pseuds/Karracaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate timeline, Sarek of Vulcan and Amanda Carynese Grayson meet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was in answer to 2005-2006 Desert Winds in the Winter's Cold Challenge - Time travel of some sort or other into Vulcan's past with Sarek and Amanda as the main characters. It had to be 5,000 words long and get Sarek and Amanda into Vulcan's Past.....

Possession:

Holding Out For a Hero

 

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom own Star Trek.

o0o

Chapter 1:

Amanda ducked under the skimmer's sail webbing, blue eyes focused on the course before her. She moved up the deck, bare feet confident on the wet boards. The headset she wore hugged her temples snugly. The nodules of the sensor-net embedded in her skin suit shimmered in the light. The skimmer's long, narrow keel sliced through water smooth as burnished quartz, empty from horizon to horizon of other craft.

With the early morning mist dissolved, Nevas'ashar became a world of diaphanous silk, the edges of sea and sky an enchanted wonderland painted in celestial shades by the hand of an angel. Pearl, lilac, dusky-rose, a hint of sherbet lemon - all softened finally into a dawn of iridescent amethyst and orange sorbet.

Delighted with her solitude, Amanda glided along the misty russet shores of Anacho'ashar's Garden Isle headed towards the weathered outline of Tacharut that loomed darkly rufescent up ahead.

She chose to ignore the knowledge that the isolation was an illusion and that substantial villa accommodation, private homes for the most part, equipped with every modern convenience were really secreted among the exotic flora that shrouded the grounds of the larger islands. With an inward chuckle she reflected on the riotous growth, not so much gardens she thought, more like - as most everything on the planet - purposely-engineered symphonies of scent and colour. And, praise to the Goddess, at least until the rest of the world stirred, she had it all to herself. Amanda executed a little jig and laughed aloud out of sheer joy at the thought. It was such a pleasure to be there that she almost forgot that she was on assignment and not vacationing.

Amanda corrected the course of the skimmer not at all sobered. Through the grid interface, she activated the sensor-net with a sub-vocal command. The plasteel chip in the headset recorded everything her five senses perceived as she panned a full one hundred and eighty degrees,

Flung like amber dust upon the fathomless depths of lucent water, Nevas'ashar's many atolls, islets, and shoals looped the planet, the only visible remains of a huge chain of mountains submerged eons ago in the Great Cataclysm.

Each islet had a distinctly separate identity of its own: on Tacharut, there were reefs to explore, lava flows to trek across, and teeming rain forests to investigate.

Streams of sweet water, inland pools, fruit trees in lush profusion and the mellow warmth of a tropical climate all contributed to Anacho'asar's resemblance to the legendary Paradise of Sha'kha'ree.

Songhaien boasted snowy peaks swathed with forests of ancient flame trees, the multihued canyons awash with numerous streams and waterfalls that dropped from huge craggy cliffs into the wild waters of the surrounding sea.

So too with Khois'anar, and Jinja'anar, though the coral reefs of the Triplets had long since been co-joined by artfully devised land bridges. Broad causeways angled out from Alatien, the middle sibling of the trio, in the giant spoke and wheel design that typified most of the island's walkways, the beautifully proportioned archways straddling land and sea alike.

To the south, out of sight, and more than a day's journey by skimmer, lay Orkhas'asar, the largest isle, and capital of the Drowned Kingdom.

But Amanda did not intend to travel so far, though the glowing, domed roofs of Es'sarhan, the Red Fortress, residence of the ruling Keh'sarin, were reputed to be one of the many wonders of this world. No, her interest that morning lay wholly in Oahu'asar, The Gathering Place. North of the Triplets, its two, parallel, mountain ranges now visible, towered massively into the hazy, ochreous sky.

An hour later, with the mist finally burned off, the sun fully up, she had an unrestricted view of the rosy coralline spires of the spaceport - just the stuff of dreams that had become her particular trademark on Sol III and a rapidly growing market of Terran colony worlds. Amanda breathed in the incredible beauty of the place. Similar creative landscapes, worked into the programmes she produced, had made her a unique commodity in the competitive - and lucrative - world of the virtual reality market. Good dramas were always at a premium, avidly sought after for the grid, but while Amanda hoped to gather material for her next production, that was not her main reason for being on Nevas'ashar.

Leaning indolently against the bow rail for a moment, she glanced up suddenly as something glinted above her, a needle stitching through opulent, orange silk. Automatically she commanded the sensor-net to go long-range, picking up a visual of the aristocratic looking skiff that had begun its descent. It was V.I.P without a doubt and not taking time out to admire the view!

Amanda whistled admirably at the sleek lines, the lustrous finish, and classic appearance that spelt wealth with a capital 'W'. A well heeled someone in a great deal of hurry! Now what could that be about, she wondered thoughtfully, her agile brain already probing who, what, where, when, and why. Visitors to Paradise weren't meant to rush around; it was against the Rules!

She grinned, adjusting her course a fraction, putting the thought on hold as she caught sight of her destination, the half-moon curve of a bay in the towering cliff side, its salmon-pink sands more than inviting. Time to break fast and eat the food she had stowed in the skimmer's miniscule galley. Her stomach growled in total agreement as she collapsed the gossamer sail webbing and let the tiny craft take her in, riding a bow wave as if she'd been doing it all her life. But such pleasures had only come lately along with her success

Though she had never sought fame, was privately terrified at the thought, her normal diligence, the desire to shape something worthwhile had produced a sensational first hit at the age of eighteen, a production she'd entitled Sorrow Songs, one that she'd probably been composing all of her life. Hungry Soul, her second work had been received as favourably as the first, but it had been Destiny's Child that had brought her renown – and the coveted Nebula. However, she couldn't help thinking, on occasions like these, that while her grid productions were good, they were still no substitute for the real thing. How long, she wondered just a little irreverently, had the Goddess laboured over Her work table to make the air on Nevas'ashar feel so invigorating, the sea just that exact shade of amber, or the sand so warm, soft, and inviting? Amanda knew, in her last piece, she had come amazingly close to this kind of perfection. The trick next time was to do the same only much better! Nothing to it, she thought with an ironic shrug. At least she had the ideal setting. All she needed now was the story to go with it!

Jumping clear of the skimmer, Amanda wriggled her toes in the yielding softness of damp sand. A wavelet caressed her instep with a light, silky touch, sending a shiver of sensual pleasure through her flesh, aware that the sensor–net would process every impression she experienced, and which she could amend or adjust later when she came to review the data she'd gathered. That was when she would need all her talent and skill, when the real work began, and the fraught nerves, nail biting, and hair tearing became an invariable constant of her professional life. Eighteen months or more of sheer, unmitigated torment - and she would adore every second!

With a light tug, the antigravs doing most of the work, she pulled the skimmer further up the beach and made the bowline fast about a jutting rock almost as tall as herself.

It was only gradually that she became aware that someone was there with her, had been there all along, silent as a shadow, waiting for her to notice. The presence grew gradually, progressively in her mind, until at last she must turn to look, not really knowing why she did.

The apparition, tall and substantial, had detached itself from the shelter of the rock face and now, soundlessly approached concealed by the shimmering heat-haze off the beach.

"Goddess…"She breathlessly exclaimed, reaching for the amulet that no-longer hung around her neck, had not done so for over ten years. She stumbled backwards in the soft, clinging sand, fetching up against the side of the skimmer, hand upraised in defence.

The wavering shadow advanced, loomed over her where she crouched against the side of the skimmer. Dark eyes glinted beneath impressive brows as a perturbed and somewhat preoccupied voice, declared, "I appear to have startled you, T'sai. I apologise."

Spoken in Standard, the lingua franca that most species inside the Federation adopted, the mesmerizing semi-baritone appeared far from spectral. Its urbane air gave Amanda the courage to squint through her fingers at the individual standing before her. Still silhouetted against sun and sea, the vision remained concealed, obscure. Amanda cleared her throat, managed to finally squeak, "I … didn't know anyone was here. The beach looked deserted."

The Shade might have sighed, a brief susurration. "T'sai, I assure you I am no phantom of the sea, whatever you may have heard about this place. I give you my word I will not spirit you away to my watery domain."

Amanda grinned weakly, embarrassed even though his voice remained matter of fact, cool and precise. Somehow, she managed to regain a shaky composure, though perspiration coldly beaded her forehead and upper lip. She surveyed him warily, noting his dark, somewhat unruly hair, winged brows and pointed ears. He looked much like any Nevas'asharn male, though his demeanour was far too serious. Could he be from Vulcan, the more famous sister world that even now glowed, a pinkish-orange moon, high in the morning sky? Vulcan unlike Nevas'ashar was proscribed to off-worlders.

"Will you know me when we meet again, T'sai?" He questioned at last, apparently amused by her scrutiny. Although his full lips still did not smile, his appraising eyes gleamed with what might be suppressed humour. They were green, Amanda noticed not black as she had first thought.

"I apologise, ser!" She countered with a deflecting grace learned long ago, at a different time and on a different world. "Please, tell me if I'm intruding on your privacy?"

His chin lifted in negation, "I will be leaving soon."

She could have let it drop, turned away from him and gone on with her plans to break the nights fast alone as she had intended, but her natural curiosity overtook the earlier fear making her bolder than usual in the presence of someone she had only just met.

"You're a visitor here?" She asked without prevarication, noting his casual clothes, Nevas'asharn-styled kilt, soft tunic, and sandals. Dark-hued and severely cut, they were a further indication that he was no more a local than she was.

"I am a … guest," he spoke economically, almost to the point of brusqueness, his speech mocking, and melancholy both, suggesting that he might be underplaying his position for some reason not yet evident to her. Yet, she sensed no animosity. His eyes swept over the figure-hugging skin suit, settled for an instant on the headset. "And you are the grid artist, Amanda Carynese Grayson."

"You've heard of me?"

His air of mystery was palpable. Who was he? Where had he come from? Mesmerized by the power of his voice, his subtle air of command, the desire burned in Amanda to ask him outright, but she had heard of Vulcan reserve, the way they protected their privacy.

"Who has not?" He countered, "The Maromokotru of our time! No one, it seems, talks of anything else."

Were Vulcans capable of teasing? "I'm surprised that my reputation has spread … to …to … Ti-Valka'ain…."

If he was surprised by her guess at his origins or the use of the correct name for his planet, his face did not show it. Instead, he inclined his elegant head, a fluid gesture that only a true Vulcanoid seemed to execute with perfect grace.

"We are always interested when someone troubles to portray our civilization … and with undoubted skill, T'sai Grayson."

She blushed, unable to prevent the flood of hot blood into her cheeks. Dissembling, she murmured, "Most of it was … guesswork. Your immigration officials refused my request for an entry visa. I didn't even get as far as Space Central."

"Indeed." He acquiesced in a soft rumble, "Regrettably, unlike Nevas'ashar, my world is … somewhat parochial where off-worlders are concerned. None-the-less, your depiction was… startlingly accurate."

Amanda's heart jumped.

"Am I really being compared to Maromokotru?" She asked, intrigued, missing the subtlety of the grid linkage that would have conveyed so much more and on so many different levels. As it was she felt deprived, almost as if one of her primary senses had been disabled. Looking at him, hearing him speak without the constant, adroit, interaction the grid provided was strangely disorientating.

The corners of his mouth lifted - a suggestion of a smile - gone as quickly as it had appeared. His eyes remained enigmatic.

"Really," he agreed.

Not for the first time, Amanda directed the sensor array to zoom in on his face, observed him in minute detail for when she could play the recording back and pore over whatever there was to glean from the holo, the rest of her mind intent on the business of interacting on a personal level. Her stomach growled reminding her that her breakfast still awaited.

"Have you eaten yet?" His quizzical expression at the sudden change of subject was almost comical. "There's enough in the galley for two."

He lifted his chin. "I thank you for the offer, T'sai Grayson, but I … must leave."

"Of course," she murmured, abruptly disappointed. She scanned the bay, but there was no other craft in view.

As if reading her thought, he nodded toward the cliff rearing up behind them. "I came from up there."

Amanda followed his gaze just in time to see what appeared to be a concealed lift entrance discharge a burly local.

Though he made no move, Amanda sensed her companion's withdrawal.

"I must leave now." He turned back to her a frown gathering between his winged brows. "I have enjoyed our encounter, T'sai Grayson. Perhaps, we may meet again. I am Sarek s'kahri ansh'oine kah t'skon. Until then, enjoy your stay."

"I will, thank you, ser." Amanda called after him, watching as he ascended the towering rock face with the stamina and grace of a mountain goat leaping it seemed, without fear or hesitation from crag to crag while her heart resounded apprehensively within her at his audacity.

At last, he reached the top; spoke briefly to his companion, before turning to gaze down at her. With a pang of conscience, Amanda waved forlornly, not expecting him to reciprocate. He hesitated a moment and then, to her surprise, raised his hand, fingers spread in some 'v'-shaped alien salute before he disappeared into the lift entrance, leaving the beach peculiarly deserted.

For a moment or two, Amanda continued to stare at the empty cliff-side, before abruptly coming to her senses. What she needed was food she decided, turning back to the skimmer, resolutely shrugging off the absurd imaginings that paraded through her thoughts.

And after breakfast there was some serious exploring to be done.

End of Part 1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

She found the entrance to the cave half blocked by silt nestled in the purple shade of an overhang, a series of strange Vulcanoid runes chiselled into the red stone. Once deeply incised, the ancient marks, worn by the inrush of sea and sand were now barely legible. Amanda traced the outline of one flowing symbol with a wondering fingertip. Though she had a rudimentary knowledge of the Nevas'asharn tongue - enough to communicate tourist fashion with the natives - the written language held no meaning for her at all. The sign could be either a blessing or a ban. It might simply warn the unwary about the low roof within, advertise the time of the incoming tide – or be a dire warning not to proceed further on pain of death. There was no way to be sure. Certainly, it looked as if the cave had remained undisturbed for many years.

It took Amanda only a moment of reflection before she bent to scoop away the clogged sand, softly humming under her breath.

Beyond the entrance lay a tunnel that tapered off into darkness, once again choked with sand. A young enough child might have crawled down it on hands and knees without difficulty. Amanda was no child and although petite with a slender figure, the passage still looked a tight fit.

She stuck her head and shoulders into the gap wriggled forward a foot or so. Instantly, most of the light cut off behind her. She shivered. That wouldn't do at all.

Backing out of the tunnel, she sent an unspoken command via the grid to the skimmer's concom. Still beached in the adjacent cove, it took a few seconds before the bobbing sphere of a small remote globe showed up. Again, sub-vocally, she directed the light into the tunnel. It hovered a yard in front of her face as she lay full-length on her abdomen. An inward order transformed the skin suit from its customary appearance of light blue silk to navy latex slick and Amanda slithered down the passageway, pulling herself forward using palms and elbows in an arduous haul over the sand.

The tunnel ended in a shaft that descended beyond the range of the globe's luminescence. Amanda commanded the sphere to circle the well, taking the time to catch her breath and let the skin suit cool her down while she attentively scanned the shaft's lip. Regular indentations set an arms length apart in the sheer rock wall, faint hollows just large enough to fit fingers and toes – too regular to be natural - led down into the gloom. The hair on the back of Amanda's neck prickled. Although the tunnel was hot and almost airless, goose bumps rose along her arms.

It was all as Ashau had described it. She closed her eyes, shutting out the globe's faint radiance, and focused her thoughts … the way she did when interacting with the grid …

Ashau can thee hear me? Ashau … I have reached the well.

There was no indication that her message had been received, no answer to her statement. Ashau had warned her that might happen. She sighed in disappointment, wanting him there to bolster her courage and cheer her on during the next stage. Maybe the rocks were shielding the transmission.

With a further regretful sigh, Amanda inched forward in the narrow space and with some effort twisted round until she lay on her stomach again, facing the opposite direction, her legs now dangling over the drop. Sweat broke out on her brow as she searched with bare toes for the nearest indentation. Though Ashau had insisted that, when a boy, he had often made this same climb, it had clearly been placed for the use of someone much taller. Gradually she slid further over the edge, fingers clinging at the sand encrusted rim. Even at full stretch she could scarcely reach the hollow.

Heart beating in trepidation, blood thudding in her temples she hung from the lip, cursing her lack of prudence for leaving the rope behind ….

Amanda believed wholeheartedly in the old adage, use what you know! The success of her previous grid productions had relied upon their startlingly accurate emotional input culled mostly from her own experience. But those earlier triumphs had recorded events that had happened in the past, not those taking place in the present. She decided this was taking professionalism just a little too far. Would it really matter so much, she wondered tersely, if the sensor data recorded just fear instead of unmitigated terror?

But just when she thought she could hold on no longer her groping right foot finally found a roost. A breath of pure relief hissed through her tightly clenched teeth as she transferred her weight from stiffened finger joints – and at last hit upon the corresponding depression to support the toes of her left foot.

After a moment to rest, she repeated the procedure. A further rest and she tackled the next set of indentations. Braced against the slippery rock, her heart thumped and her breathing came harsh and uneven. She managed to descend at an even pace fear nibbling at the edges of her concentration all the while at the thought of falling. But she eventually reached the bottom, the overstretched muscles in her back and arms and calves screaming in anguish.

The light-globe hovered at eye level a metre away, awaiting Amanda's instructions. She took a moment to shake out cramped muscles before looking about, the head set recording everything her eyes saw. The bottom of the shaft opened into another cavern, floored with pink sand that glowed with faint phosphorescence, and from there three ways led off. One was silted up almost to the low roof and two were flooded. Amanda, after a quick consultation with her inner knowledge directed the lamp toward the shallower of the flooded tunnels, along which stray lumps of flattish rock served as irregular stepping-stones. For a few metres she made dry if cumbersome progress.

Mercifully, the tunnel soon began to slope upwards and Amanda left the water behind. For a time she travelled on moist sand, though it was not long an asset, lying so thick in places that she was compelled to walk bent double and, finally to scramble once again on hands and knees. The walls had also narrowed and she became conscious of the deep silence within and without the grid, the weight of the rock above her and the fact of her utter aloneness….

She had never suffered from claustrophobia before but perspiration abruptly ran stingingly into her eyes. Her lungs, already burning with the strain of drawing air from the saturated atmosphere, froze in mid-breath. Running on empty, her heart stuttered in sudden panic. That one moment stretched into an infinity where only her madly beating pulse held any reality.

*Fear not, Amanda. I am with thee…*

That unlooked for communication soothed her anxious thoughts like balm. Almost immediately her heart stopped its crazy pounding. Neither speech, nor image, the language of thought defied description. *Ashau, qual se tu…?*

Though she had known him most of her nineteen years, she had never heard his voice, never seen his face. All he was to her was awareness - psyche speaking to psyche. It seemed that there had never been a time when they could not meet each other, mind to mind. Like in the grid… and yet not!

*Thee should return to the beach. This is too dangerous.*

Tendrils of his perception touched her mind in a way it had never done before. The thought pattern came curiously, not with Ashau's usual characteristic aloofness, but with a startling clarity, strong and precise almost as if he were beside her there in the gloom. There was a new kindliness to the communication, a courteousness that she had never sensed before.

Unexpectedly, somewhere behind her, a stone rattled, followed by a splash. Amanda stared into the darkness, blue eyes wide, body taut. *Someone follows…*

The presence within gently reassured her.*That is not possible. However, the tide is on the turn. These tunnels will soon be flooded. Return to the surface…*

A command to the sphere sent it skimming back along the narrow passageway as Amanda strained to hear the least sound, but whatever had caused the noise did not repeat and the pale radiance of the globe revealed nothing more than its own bobbing shadow. It returned at her order and hovered at her shoulder as she queried, *There was someone waiting on the shore…when I arrived. He called himself Sarek, child of Skon. Do thee know of him?*

There was a slight hesitation before the reply came, *I … am acquainted with him. But we will speak of that later… return now as I ask…*

She was touched by his concern for her safety, and with him there – inside her mind - her earlier fear disappeared. Determinedly, she told him, *Who knows when I'll get this chance again. It's not much further. I'm going on…*

*No, Amanda, it is not safe! Do as I request…return to the beach…*

But she tuned out his protest, wiped the perspiration from her eyes and pushed herself back onto hands and knees. Five or maybe six metres on, the weaving sphere outlined the end of the tunnel … and an even greater darkness beyond.

End of Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Ten minutes later, Amanda crawled out of the tunnel onto a soft mound of pink sand. At first, she could only huddle on all fours, head drooping like a winded pony, gulping down the fresher air of what appeared to be one of an intricate series of interlocking caverns. Bathed in the glow of the sphere she sat back upon her heels surveying the huge space with its curved walls that soared upwards to form a roof high overhead. Innumerable tunnels and shafts entered and left the cave at all angles and levels. Though the light did not reach that far, she saw in her mind’s eye, the galleries and corridors, the rocky halls and passageways, the way Ashau had shown them to her. A lethal switchback ride, most of the tunnels twisted, branched, forked, climbed and dropped, often leading nowhere… 

//Amanda? Amanda Carynese Grayson…can thee hear me?// The contact though still gentle disclosed increasing concern.

//Ashau…how long have I before the cave floods? // She enquired, mentally emphasizing her determination to continue despite his opposition. 

The slight hesitation was answer enough. Before she had even translated the ominous timbre of his thought, Amanda clambered to her feet. A swift examination of walls smoothed by eons of water activity showed her a clear demarcation line of lighter rock free of seaweed and crustacean, many meters above her head. To be safe from the incoming tide she had to climb.

The loose sand underfoot killed all noise except for her anguished breathing. It made running hot, laborious work, when Amanda already neared exhaustion. The terror of drowning, however, leant wings to her stumbling feet. 

Instead of trying to cross the enormous chamber - an unrealistic hope in the short time she had left - Amanda stayed as near the cavern wall as the conditions allowed. The globe, ducking and diving skittered ahead, a clear indication of her alarm, while she searched desperately for a way up the sheer rock. 

The slow seep of water already lapped at her ankles by the time she spotted the rough-hewn vertical aperture, a two and a half foot wide crack that resembled a three sided chimney flue. To Amanda’s relief, it thankfully ascended beyond the rising water’s habitual cut-off point leveling out onto what from below appeared to be a narrow-looking ledge. It was her only hope, one that she grasped at instantly. With arms behind her, the palms of her hands flat against the knurled and pitted stone at her back, she planted both feet against the opposite wall and laboriously shuffled aloft. 

Inch by slow inch she pushed herself toward that still far off safety mark conscious of the swirling amber sea gushing below - which rose so much faster than she did. Almost tenderly, the soft waves curled about her ankle, her calf, swelling to encompass her thigh and waist…. 

Shivering and sweating, while salty droplets trickled into her smarting eyes and plastered the short red curls to her scalp, Amanda determinedly blanked the panic from her mind. She rested for a brief instant, gathering her remaining strength before the final push, eyes focused on the rock shelf above her.

//I must see through thy eyes. Show me where thee are. // 

He had received the fear pattern her mind projected. Serene no longer, the structure of his thoughts also transformed into hard-edged detachment, concealing all sentiment – more the Ashau she had always known. 

When first he had appeared to her as a child, initially through her relaxed and dreaming mind, then – as she grew older – more and more frequently in her waking hours, it had seemed a game they played for him to enter her thoughts and share her senses. There had never been any compulsion in the exploit. At all times on every occasion, she had remained conscious. It was always her decision when or whether anything happened. 

Trusting once more in his honor she gave up autonomy without question.

The manner of Ashau’s swift possession again surprised her. Instead of the brashness she recalled from those other instances of his occupation the takeover, though hurried, proceeded with a considerate benevolence, a new and delicate regard for her sensibilities. 

His brisk inner command had the globe zeroed in just above her eye level. Empowered by Ashau’s will, spine and feet braced against the opposite sides of the chimney wall, she watched her hands reach out, saw her fingers encircle the sphere. A new strength pulsed through her body. The sphere wavered as she clutched it tightly. A transitory notion entered her mind that it would not bear her weight, but the abrupt panic dissolved before an overwhelming surge of calmness. 

The imposed serenity held even when the sphere dipped sharply and she became engulfed up to the armpits in coppery water. Though her gorge rose at the bitter tang on her lips and in her nostrils, the death grip she held on the globe never faltered. The overloaded servos whined, the sound intensifying into a screech as the globe finally lifted her clear and within seconds neatly deposited her feet first onto the narrow ledge.

Almost in slow motion, with a soft moan of relief, Amanda slumped noiselessly onto her knees. Though it seemed every muscle in her body ached, she had once again regained mastery of herself. A command to the heater in the skin suit soon had her warm again as she stared out over the far reaches of an inner sea which, only moments before, had been sand. The globe hovered at her shoulder, still buzzing disconsolately, its previous serene radiance dimmed into a murky glow. 

“So, what do we do now?” She asked.

The answer came swift and unequivocal, // Thee will remain where thee are until the water recedes. After that, thee will return to the surface.// 

“But there has to be another way!” She exclaimed into the air, unwilling to admit defeat after all that she had gone through so far. “You said you’d explored these caves. You must have found some other route.”

//I … underestimated the dangers. Thee must return…. // His thought echoed through her perception, an explicit command. Beneath the authoritarian manner, however, she sensed again the spark of unexpected anxiety. 

//Let’s compromise//, she sent back, puzzlement growing over the altered approach. // If I can’t find a way round within another hour, I’ll do as you say…//

//Negative….//

//I’m not about to sit here for Goddess knows how long just twiddling my thumbs...// She countered in obstinate opposition. A tortured buzz came from the light globe. It flashed briefly on and off almost as if in agreement. Anxious for the globe’s damaged circuitry Amanda shot it a tired wink. “That’s right, Buster. You tell him.” 

//There is nothing to fear if thee remain where thee are. However, I cannot guarantee thy safety if thee persist in further exploration of this cave system. //

// What’s wrong? // She queried abruptly. His unexpected reversal in direction, the new reluctance to continue, confused her. Guarantees of safety had never played a significant part in their past adventures. //I’m not afraid.//

To question her bravery had always proved an effective gambit for Ashau. She had quickly realized as a child that he craved any new experience they could share together. He reveled in dangerous physical pursuits – a drive she found she also shared. His urging had pushed Amanda into learning how to swim, and ride. She had scraped credits together for a whole year so that she could pay for rock climbing tuition. The insertion of the innovative grid implant had been his idea, though she had embraced it with the same enthusiasm. Her choice of career had seemed to follow on naturally from there, each new skill adding veracity to the first VR programmes she produced. He had also provided her with astonishingly detailed information on the Vulcan culture. Not the only one to feel curiosity over their enigmatic allies that extra boost, along with her own surprising skill, had brought her to the attention of the ever-expanding grid audience. His demands and her own curiosity had encouraged her to paraglide off a mountain on Alpha Centauri; explore the wondrous undersea reefs diving on the Andorian Vorna colony - and even to venture into Earth’s subterranean caverns, potholing - all grist to the mill of her imagination. But since he had told her what was hidden in the caves on Nevas’ashar she had begun to realize his ultimate goal - and his determination to achieve it.

//The globe may fail and thee will be left in darkness…I do not wish that to happen. //

//Me neither. // Inwardly quailing at the thought, she pushed herself quickly to her feet. //You must know where this ledge goes.//

//I do not….//

Irritated at his denial, no longer quite believing him, Amanda sent the globe off, first to the left then to the right. The sensors within the head-set she wore zoomed in after it. The data routed through the grid, materialized in video format, which she accessed through the implant, the images conjured as if on a screen within her mind’s eye. With the ledge petering out from where she stood at the widest point, to a scant few inches of rock at either end, it looked at first sight as if she were truly stuck there until the waters went down. She examined the vid-footage minutely but just when she was about to give it all up as hopeless, she noticed a darker area of shadow which ran perpendicularly from the ledge toward the roof of the cave - another tunnel opening?

//I commend thy dedication to the task but to continue will be against thy own best interests …an illogical action. // Ashau’s thought came, shaded by a variety of nuances that proved difficult for her to translate.

//You’re making too much of this. Trust me. I can do it.// Amanda returned her own mind tone atypically acerbic. Did he doubt her ability? Was that the reason for the sudden sea change, she wondered, forcing herself to calmness? 

The shadowed area, indeed a further tunnel entrance, opened a foot beyond where the ledge diminished to virtually nothing.

//Amanda//, He remonstrated again, and this time there was no mistaking the coolness of the mind-touch. // This is irresponsible. I insist thee remain where thee are. // 

~~

Mixed feelings surged through Amanda at the arrogant configuration of that thought. Fingers clasped about rock, she leaned across the gap between the end of the ledge and the tunnel opening, while an alarm bell reverberated in her ears. 

//You’re not Ashau//, she declared. // Who are you//? 

But she need not have asked. In her mind, an image appeared of features she had seen only recently. Something twisted inside Amanda as she recalled the generous mouth and aquiline nose, the darkly penetrating gaze of the Vulcan on the beach. 

//Sarek// And, almost immediately, he confirmed it.

//I mean thee no harm, T’sai Grayson.//

His aura flared a bright star in Amanda’s awareness. He was following her. She recalled the noise of falling rock and the splash she had heard in the tunnel earlier. 

//Where’s Ashau//? 

//Indeed, that is a question to which I also require an answer. Remain where thee are until I arrive…//

Amanda blinked in owlish surprise. So, there was another way around the floodtide …and Sarek knew of it. Could he also know of her destination? In the mistaken belief that she had all this time been conversing with Ashau had she inadvertently given Sarek a clue about her ultimate direction? Or -- had he some arcane Vulcan technology to aide him. Ashau had told her of such things; ancient psionic devices with unknown powers created in the far past by mind-lords to support their own formidable abilities. Were such things still made? 

In sudden panic she slammed the gates of her perception shut, the abrupt alarm an ample stimulus to cross the gap between ledge and tunnel entrance without further prevarication. A banged knee and scraped knuckles were the only souvenirs of her mad scramble as she squeezed into the narrow aperture. Meanwhile, so complete a silence fell inside her skull that for a moment she thought herself struck deaf. Thankfully, the notion lasted only for an instant. As she took in her surroundings, she heard again the low susurrus of the incoming tide as it lapped against the stone of her new perch and, infinitely more unnerving, the sputtering globe at her shoulder. But of Sarek’s presence, there was no-longer any indication. 

The flickering light now showed that she had been mistaken in her earlier belief. For the gap in the rock face was in fact no tunnel but a stairway. Nor was it naturally created. Though ruggedly hewn and very narrow, the steps appeared far too even and well made for the shaping hand of nature. The stair climbed, constricted and precipitous toward a higher gallery. Her need for haste triggered a foolish recklessness. Without taking time out to test the stairway’s durability Amanda dashed upward, her feet hardly touching the weathered treads. 

Stone crumbled as she fled.

The first landing proved to be a dead-end. Hastily, Amanda scooted up a second flight even less maneuverable, with wide fissures cleaving more than one step. Through the gaps, the floor of the lower gallery could be seen, giddily distant. After the first hurried glance, Amanda refused to look again.

Her thoughts raced more rapidly than her feet as she erupted from the stair-well into another corridor. Unlike the ones she had squeezed through previously, it was wide and straight, the ceiling high. A pallid phosphorescent glimmer emanated from the stone. 

Stuck at knee height the globe droned unhappily but added to the sphere’s weak glow the pale luminance from the walls revealed another mystifying Vulcan symbol. Engraved into the rock the glyph resembled those Amanda had found at the entrance to the cave system. She cursorily examined the sweeping lines. Strangely beautiful though it was, it still meant nothing to her. Ashau had not mentioned any of these signs. But, maybe he considered them unimportant; as far as she knew the alien character could just mean ‘exit’ or ‘keep straight on’ …

Deciding to interpret the glyph in exactly that way she again took to her heels. But, after only a few minutes, another drop shaft halted her forward progress. Maybe the glyph had been a warning. The widest rift she had yet come upon, it spanned the corridor from wall to wall. Only a narrow beam of rock bridged the gaping mouth. Amanda groaned as she peered over the edge and saw the sickening fall.

It was a terrible depth. Amanda looked into the void, a dark and forbidding maw, ridged and gleaming with the same queer luminosity that radiated from the walls waiting to swallow her up at the first misstep. Ears singing, heart pounding, she willed herself forward and placed a foot upon the spine. 

Don’t look down, and you’ll be all right, she told herself. Nerves on fire, she pushed aside her fears and took a further step onto the beam.

A sudden shimmering in the darkness at her back made her turn. A faint hum teased her ears. Wide-eyed, amazed, she stared as the air trembled in violent agitation. About a still centre, sparks of incandescence swirled, a whirlpool of flickering light. As she continued to watch the sparks coalesced, at last materializing into a tall and familiar shape… Sarek! 

He noticed her immediately. Amanda felt rather than saw his dismay as he caught sight of her position at the very foot of the beam – but only a raised eyebrow registered any outward response.

Mixed emotions surged through her at his appearance and the unexpected manner of it, but pride concealed the inner turmoil. She gazed at him in baffled confusion, the memory of his ‘voice’ in her mind uppermost in her thoughts. 

As far back as she could recall she had deliberated on Ashau’s appearance. Whether he was dark or fair, what colour his eyes might be … if he were tall - those little inconsequential things that nevertheless meant so much.

She had realized early on by his lack of familiarity about Earth and Terrans that he was not Human. Amanda long since had guessed that if not from Vulcan itself he was of Vulcanoid stock. Now, with a guilty start she realized that Sarek’s features overlaid the blank left in her mind, the mellifluous yet authoritative timbre of his perception vibrated in her inner ear where before only Ashau’s aura had resonated.

“We meet again, T’sai Grayson.” Again, the smooth, well-modulated tones belied any consternation. 

Though he made no move towards her she cried out, “Don’t come any closer…” 

His gaze met hers, his expression stern, “If that is your wish. However, your position at the moment appears … precarious. For my serenity at least, I would ask that you step onto a more solid footing.” 

Amanda shook her head. “No, I don’t think so!”

She heard Sarek call her name out loud as, without further hesitation, she swiveled on her heel and stepped out briskly along the beam.

Amanda was almost half way across the gulf when she lost momentary concentration and looked down. But that one glance was enough to unbalance her. She teetered sideways, heart in her mouth, arms flailing. For an instant she regained equilibrium but not enough.

Gravity reached out with eager fingers and with her own scream echoing in her ears she fell from the bridge and tumbled into the void. 

o0o


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

The rapidity of it – and the fear – knocked the breath from Amanda’s lungs. She could not have screamed again even if she had thought of it. Curiously, her past life did not flash before her eyes. Instead, as she plummeted toward the ground, an image of Alice in Lewis Carroll’s famous book as she tumbled down the rabbit hole came to mind. The antique novel was a prized possession, the first – and so far – the only real paper book she owned. The way things were going, it looked like it would be her last.

Distinct from Alice’s slow and dreamy descent into Wonderland with plenty of time to look around, Amanda dropped like a stone. The ground, lost in shadows, hurtled towards her … dizzyingly fast. The globe, dragged along by chance buzzed furiously as it whooshed earthward just by her ear. Doom, it whined, doom…

Her psyche cried out where her voice could not … to the only person she thought might be within hearing range – and able to help. //Sarek, Sarek//

His answer came without delay, the pattern strong and more than a little smug. //The Force field will stop thy fall, T’sai Grayson. The effect might prove… uncomfortable…but nothing more serious…//

//Force-field//, her mind questioned, //what force-field…//?

Then she was upon it. Just a faint shimmer showed up in the light of the globe, a vague spider-web of flickering interconnected lines that stretched the width of the shaft.

The sphere met the barrier first. Sparks flew in every direction before the globe imploded with a blast that set Amanda’s ears ringing. Somehow, she managed to gather her arms and legs about her but even curled into a ball, the bare flesh of her right foot touched a strand. An electric tingle shot through her flesh, the blood pounded in her head and her senses reeled as if short-circuited. Lightning flared behind her eyes and blazed a fiery trail down her spine. She gasped, arched her back at the shock, and felt her consciousness ebb. 

She landed prone for the second time in only seconds, with a force that left her breathless, and lay still while her stomach churned in nauseous reaction. Her whole body shook to the thud of her heartbeat. But she was alive and, it appeared, apart from a bruise or five, otherwise unharmed. 

It took a while before she turned over onto her back and stared up. Far above, where the glowing strands of the force-field met and crossed, nodules of light continued to twinkle, innocuous and very beautiful, a simulated star-scape against an indigo velvet backdrop. She zoomed in on it with the headset sensors but of the narrow stone bridge, the top of the well, or Sarek there was no-longer any sign.

Hesitantly, she sent out a call but if her mental appeal could still be heard neither Sarek nor Ashau answered. Even the grid remained silent, its access cut off by the electromagnetic properties of the field above. However, she doubted that Sarek would call off the chase that easily. He had known of the existence of the force-field. Such a powerful device would never be used unnecessarily – which meant it guarded some prize. A prize that maybe Sarek also knew about. 

A prize he did not wish her to reach.

That it was the same treasure Ashau had sent her to find she had little doubt. And now that she had slipped through Sarek’s fingers in such an audacious way he understood her resourcefulness. She would not escape his clutches so effortlessly if they should meet again. Even as she lay there wool-gathering he was, most certainly, on his way to claim her.

Galvanised by the thought, she abruptly sat up. At her sudden movement, the darkness brightened to the orange-pink of a Nevas’asharn dawn. She jumped almost out of her skin when a voice male and deeply sonorous reverberated into the quiet. 

“Nam-tor wak’ashan vah’yt s’vesht na’fa’wak heh pla’rak. I’wak mesukh-yt t’on.”

Though she understood not a word she recognised the language as Vulcanoid in origin. Whoever it was seemed to be asking a question of her.

“I don’t understand!” She stated boldly in Standard, and with a groan as her abused muscles protested, scrambled to her feet, “Who are you? Show yourself.”

Amanda glanced about hastily as the light continued to improve, banishing any lingering shadows. Though she found herself in another wide corridor, unlike the caverns above, these walls were smooth. Built of worked stone, the huge blocks fitted neatly together edge to edge and were decorated with amazingly realistic murals. 

 

Scenes of daily life were depicted in minute detail. Amanda panned quickly over the assorted vistas, naked feet silent on the buoyant red tiles that gave slightly under her light tread. She gazed in awe at the artistry of painted sailing vessels – larger versions of the skimmer with the same gauzy sail webbing - that plied their trade between the different islands. There were vistas of quiet temples and busy markets, sylvan landscapes and mountain views - all as fresh as if they had been painted just yesterday. Maybe that had something to do with the air circulation. Warm and dry, it smelled piquantly of cinnamon – the same zesty scent she associated with the fragrance of Nevas’asharn skin - of Sarek’s skin. 

She abruptly twirled on a heel, gazed to the right. A vague flickering, like the undulating waves of heat haze off a sun-baked road, drew her attention. Beyond it, the long corridor seemed to continue though there appeared something odd about the length of it. She guessed at another defensive screen of some kind. To the left, great stone double doors that reached from floor to ceiling closed off that end. 

Ashau had described this place – though she had not expected to reach it in such a way. By falling off the stone bridge, providence had done her a favour after all. Against all the odds she had landed exactly in the spot she needed to be. 

Arrogant and authoritative, the voice spoke again, as she took a step in the direction of the shimmering barrier, “Nahp! Hif-bi du throks …”

It brought to mind the simulated computer voice of the Nevas’asharn municipal processor above ground. This time, Amanda thought she recognised a word, though it seemed oddly accented, or maybe just … archaic! Possibly, an older version of the language Vulcan and Nevas’ashar both shared before the Time of Awakening, a philosophy that caused a deep schism between the two worlds.

The voice, she was now certain, belonged to the security comp. A sudden tingling through her body, the abrupt lack of response to her mental command, warned her of a holding beam. This, too, Ashau had mentioned. She had learned a phrase by rote, one he had not translated and which she did not understand – but she could guess its meaning. It was a key of sorts, a way through the security. Still frozen on the spot she stated in a clear, calm voice, “Nam tor wak’ashan yon svi’eif yontau au…”

It worked! The holding beam slipped away. Again, she had control of her muscles, had freedom to move. With a hurried, backward, glance at the huge doors she took off to the right. 

Static electricity crackled along Amanda’s skin as she neared the strange disturbance. The charged atmosphere lifted her hair from her scalp and spun it out around her head in an auburn halo. Another step and pinpoints of light danced before her eyes. The blood suddenly thrummed in her ears and a prickly heat swept through her. Clammy sweat broke from her pores. Abruptly dizzy, she swayed on her feet, lurched sideways and fetched up against the corridor wall - which unexpectedly dissolved to nothing. 

The fake wall opened out into a large, octagonal-shaped room softly illuminated by orange light that came from some unidentifiable source. Once over the threshold, Amanda’s previous physical disorientation faded almost immediately. 

She looked back; saw through the wavering field, the same corridor she had traversed moments before – except it was no longer empty. The imposing stone doors stood ajar – and, long legs eating up the distance, Sarek strode towards the energy screen. Amanda’s heart jumped as she sensed the power that coiled within him, a power emphasized by his forceful physical presence. How she could confuse him for Ashau, she did not know. Certainly, it would never happen again.

In a panic she backed further into the peculiarly shaped room intent on evading Sarek’s perception that searched ahead of his swift approach. With every ounce of strength she possessed she fought to keep the gates of her mind slammed shut against his incursion but she soon realised the struggle was an uneven one. She needed to hurry if she was to fulfil her quest. 

Another of the Vulcan sigils caught her attention. Enamelled in vermillion and studded with nodules of blue crystal, the symbol was surrounded by an elaborately carved frame, eight sided like the room and deeply embossed into the stone of the wall. Frantic, that Sarek would overcome her resistance, she again cried out the words Ashau had taught her to say, “Nam tor wak’ashan yon svi’eif yontau au…”

The computer sombrely intoned, “Nam-tor wak’ashan vah’yt s’vesht na’fa’wak heh pla’rak. I’wak mesukh-yt t’on.”

For a second or two nothing happened. Then, with a soft grating sound of stone rubbing across stone, the emblem started to move. That part of the wall slid inward and to one side. Within, a further circular chamber, lit again by ambient ochre radiance, waited for Amanda’s entry. Heart beating, she swallowed the fear of some other security ambush and stepped swiftly over the threshold.

A large copper metal disk approximately three feet in diameter was inlaid centrally into the red, stone-tiled floor bordered at regular intervals by six waist high ornately carved marble and crystal pillars. Every now and then the columns would pulse with light in some slow and dreamy sequence she could not quite fathom. The flow of iridescent colour baffled her senses.

An elaborate mural decorated the surrounding walls and featured what Amanda took to be life size representations of Vulcanoid priests and priestesses. Dressed in flowing linen robes they enacted out some ceremony or ritual that she guessed had to do with the extraordinary apparatus there. Dragging her eyes from the light show, careful not to step within the circle, she hurriedly searched the painted surface. 

Further around the frescoed wall, two of the priests faced each other their long fingers clasped about a red crystal orb spun with fine copper wire. Even in the mural, the object seemed to emanate power …. 

It fitted exactly the image Ashau had planted in her mind, the thing he desired her to find and take to him. Almost reverently, she reached out and placed her palm flat against the image.

Behind her, coloured light danced and shimmered from pillar to pillar. The pulsing iridescence gained in rapidity. At the same time, the part of the wall where her hand rested smoothly opened to reveal a shallow compartment. There, upon an ornamental carved marble stand lay the painted orbs physical twin. 

Rosy crystal glowed as if lit from within. Eyes wide with awe, unable to resist its siren call, Amanda reached out with trembling fingers. 

The deep resonance of Sarek’s inimitable voice, the sound of his light tread unexpectedly behind her, broke the enchantment, “That would not be wise, T’sai. You meddle with things you do not understand.” 

The radiance contained within the orb flared. Ignoring Sarek’s implied command afraid that he would stop her, Amanda hastily lifted the artefact from its resting place. The weight of it was heavy and strangely warm against her cupped palms. She turned to face him holding the orb before her. He stood only feet away. Eyes narrowed, she glared back at him, as a sudden and illogical dislike shuddered through her. Through the sudden pressure in her skull she ground out, “I’m taking the orb to its rightful owner. Don’t try and stop me…” 

Sarek came to a halt in mid-step. He inclined his head in courteous obeisance, but his eyes held a new wariness, a watchful caution. “Indeed? And … that owner would be the one you call Ashau, I presume?”

A shiver travelled the length of Amanda’s spine. She frowned down into the orb for a moment, watched as the inner light pulsed. Sarek’s presence had become an irritant. It was an effort to speak calmly, to still the impatience that fired her nerves now that, at long last, she had the orb in her possession. Only one thing left to do and her mission would be over. “That’s right. Step aside, let me pass and…and you will not be harmed.”

He looked at her from beneath craggy brows, his dark eyes hooded like those of a bird of prey. “Is that so? Very well…if you insist….”

But instead of backing off as Amanda expected, he took a long stride in her direction, hand outstretched, reaching for the vulnerable spot between her neck and shoulder. The orb flashed crimson and fire scorched her palms in warning. She cried out, dodged just in time beneath his arm and lurched into the centre of the circle. Unbalanced by her action, Sarek twisted sideways, fell awkwardly to his knees. Carried along by his forward momentum, still on his knees, he came to a standstill before her feet. 

The marble columns surged with all the colours of the spectrum, the ochre light flared, dimmed, and then brightened to a dazzling intensity. Beneath them the floor vibrated. Shock siphoned the blood from Amanda’s face. She shouted out in fear, “What’s happening?” 

But if Sarek answered she did not hear. The walls of the room seemed to melt and flow. A thundering roar surged in her ears. A maelstrom of noise, light and colour resonated through her shocked body.

A wave of nausea hit her – just before she was whirled off her feet, her physical form shredded atom from atom and dispersed on the winds of time. 

o0o

Amanda sat up abruptly, groaned as she consciously registered the throbbing of her temples, and swiftly closed her eyes against the glare of brilliant sunlight along a jagged skyline. She pulled in a breath, muscles trembling, heart drumming, assaulted for a moment by a wild alarm. What had happened? Where was she?

Cautiously, she squinted between half closed lids. Evening approached. The sun hovered a few inches above the far horizon, dust clouds fanning out around it, undersides burning with fiery radiance. Wind graded dunes, interspersed with fields of soft, flat sand, marched into the distance. The desert-scape radiated with heat. Each painful inhalation seared her lungs. Panic urged her to run but there was no-where to go. So, she took a further breath, then another, until she had the fear under a nominal control. The orb, quiescent now, lay at her feet. She bent to pick it up and only then noticed the dark silhouette, wavering in the heat, lying a few feet away. Sarek? Who else could it be! Somehow, the strange, alien machinery had caught them both up and swept them here.... wherever 'here' was. 

And, as if prompted by that thought, a familiar 'voice' echoed inside Amanda's skull. //Qual se tu, Amanda? Is it thou? I welcome thee at last to Ti-Valka'ain//

o0o


End file.
